“What are you talking about?” My first impulse was to slam and lock the door. But something about her lilting voice, her all-too-perfect features slowed my thought processes. Mesmerized me.

“It’s me, Sebastian. Analise.”

Analise? Recognition dawned on me. Analise was a character from my very first horror novel, The Ravening. She was one of my favorite characters. A strong-willed, quirky female. Medium-length blonde hair. Brown eyes. Her favorite red swea…

“No.” I shook my head. This was too weird. “You’re not real.” She had to be some psycho fan-stalker on a Stephen King level. Shut the door, Sebastian. SHUT THE DOOR!

She stepped through the open door, forcing me to take a few steps back. Her smile was as I had always imagined it.

“I’m as real as you are. How real are you?”

“Look, I’m just a horror writer. I make up strange, little stories. That’s all.”

“That’s not all.” She reached out a hand towards me and I nearly jumped. “That’s not even close. I exist, Sebastian James. Me. This house. This world. Even you. We all exist.”

“You only exist in my mind. On my computer screen.” I laughed nervously. “This has to be a joke.”